Brutal Savage: A Single Dad Forced Marriage Irish Mafia Romance (Savage Kings Book 2)

I know teachers aren’t supposed to have a favorite student. Yet we do. We all do.

And mine is Brody Quinn.

The sweet eight-year-old boy who never smiles.

Never laughs.

Never even likes to be hugged.

Not anymore. Not since he lost both of his parents last year, I’m told.

He barely even looks at anyone. Like he’s afraid even that would be too much communication, and it breaks my damn heart.

I adore him, and I wish there was something more I could do.

But I try. I talk to him during snack time or lunch, when he’s sitting alone or next to people who are talking. While he’s just there, existing in his own head. In his own pain.

I know all about that too.

Closing my eyes, I see her.

Nonono! Mom! No!

I remember my screams. The blood. So much blood.

I can’t unsee it. Her body contorted on the shower floor. Her eyes lifeless.

I blink away the tears.

Don’t go back there. Don’t you dare go back there.

Losing my mom almost killed me. But losing the people you love at a young age is cruel and unfair, and Brody lost his mother right after his father was killed.

The school counselor told me his mom committed suicide after his dad died from a boat accident.

He found her.

His own mother.

A pang hits my chest, and I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop from crying.

Tears swim in my eyes anyway as I stare at him, quietly eating his pretzels at his desk while others are chatting with one another.

Gathering my bag of popcorn and Oreos, I get to my feet and grab a chair, placing it beside him. A movie plays for the kids to enjoy as they eat, and it’s the screen that has his attention.

“Hey, Brody,” I whisper. “Whatcha got there?”

I peek over at his pretzels as though I don’t know, and he tilts up the bag so I can see the front.

“Ah, pretzels. I love pretzels.”

He throws one into his mouth, not looking at me. Then, slowly, he moves the bag in my direction and jerks his hand like he wants me to take one.

My mouth presses tightly, and I fight not to cry because it’s the most he’s done since I joined the class.

“I can have one? Thank you! That’s so nice of you.” Reaching in, I catch one and toss it into my mouth. “How about we share? Maybe you want some of this popcorn?”

I know popcorn is one of his favorites. It’s why I brought it today.

The bag crinkles as I pull it open and move it toward him.

At first, it doesn’t appear as though he’ll actually accept my offer. Then his hand moves just a little until he’s reaching inside.

Silently, I do a happy dance. This is progress. This is something to be excited about.

Glancing at him, I wonder what he’s thinking right now. Does he wish he could talk? Is he afraid to? I can’t imagine that kind of trauma on any person, let alone a child.

I should call and make an appointment with his father’s cousin, the man who adopted him. It’d be good to discuss what steps he’s taking to help Brody.

I don’t know much about him. Never even met the man.

But maybe it’s time that I did.

TYNAN

I make it a point to pick him up every day after school. His mother or father would be there every single day, and I want him to know that’ll never change with me.

The therapist said Brody needs consistency and trust, and I’m doing everything in my damn power to give him that. I have to.

His father, Aiden, and I were close. Hell, he was more like a brother than a cousin. We grew up together, along with his brother, Ryan.

Brody was supposed to go to Ryan, except Aiden left a will, and he wanted me to have him.

Fuck if I know why. Maybe because Ryan has been to prison more times than I can count. Maybe it’s because he’s not really into kids.

Then again, what the hell do I know about them? Never had any.

I think Ryan was relieved when he found out Brody wouldn’t go to him. Not because he doesn’t love his nephew. He does. Though he’d rather do work for my father than do things like this: pick up Brody, do homework with him, or cook him a meal.

I could let Ruby take care of all that—she already does a lot—but I want to show Brody I’m in it. That I’m here. That I’m not going anywhere.

Ruby has been invaluable, though. She cooks for us when I can’t. She does everything around here. A live-in housekeeper. Sitter too. I wouldn’t be able to work and raise Brody if it wasn’t for her.

Standing outside on the grass, right across from the school building, I wait for Brody to get out.

When I see him, he’s the first in line, walking out with her.

Long black hair is coiled up in a classy bun, a few strands falling across her right cheek, those crystalline blue eyes twinkling like damn stars when she whispers to Brody.

And I hate that I notice.

That I see how beautiful she is.

Yet I’ve started to notice other things too. Little things when Brody’s around her. Like the way he doesn’t recoil when she puts her arm around him. Or the way he stands just a little closer every time he’s beside her, waiting for her to let him cross over to me.

He never does that with me. He pushes me away like he despises me.

I know he doesn’t. I know he’s hurting. I’m hurting for him.

But this new substitute teacher, she’s good for him. I can see that already.

She doesn’t know what I look like. A pair of sunglasses fixes that. I don’t want her to. It’d be harder to keep tabs on her that way. However, as Brody’s adoptive father, it’s my job to vet everyone he comes into contact with.

Including the alluring Ms. Hill.

My brother Fionn did some digging on her too. Her social media accounts were nonexistent. No trail to go on. She’s a ghost by all accounts, and that has my radar up even more.

What the hell could she be hiding?

Fionn did discover she was once engaged, though. I don’t know who the hell the guy is or why the engagement ended. Said he heard from one of the old ladies in town who knows her grandma. But that’s all she’d tell them. The rest, she kept quiet, and it makes me wonder why.

Is she hiding from him? Is he after her?

Peering at her, I don’t sense danger. I don’t think she’d hurt Brody.

Yet in our lives, no one is to be trusted.

Not even her.

When it’s Brody’s turn for dismissal, she smiles at him one last time as she points to me, her full pink lips moving as she talks to him, probably asking if I’m the one who’s picking him up.

He nods once, looks up at her for a moment, then stoically walks over. Like he’s making his way to the devil from just being with an angel.

He wouldn’t be wrong.

My damn chest squeezes. He doesn’t deserve this. No kid deserves to lose his dad and then come home to his mom’s fucking brain splattered on the wall.

She didn’t even have the decency to swallow some pills. She had to blow her damn brains out in her bedroom while he was at school.

When the teacher called telling me Willow hadn’t shown up to pick him up, I rushed to get him. Once we got to his house, he went calling for her, trying to find her.

Then he did.

My eyelids slam closed. I hate myself for not finding her first. Hate that I’m thinking ill of Willow. She was a good woman. Aiden loved her with everything he had, and look where that got them.

Marriage is nothing but a useless commitment made by fools who don’t realize the mistake they’re making until it’s too late.

My father, unfortunately, doesn’t agree with that. As the head of the family, he gets to make up the rules, like forcing me to find a wife within two months so I can take over as the new head of the Quinn family.

He wants heirs. Lots of them.

It’s not enough that my eldest sister, Iseult, is already married to Gio Marino, or that my younger one, Eriu, recently got married too.

As the oldest, my father’s seat is mine, and he won’t let me officially have it until I have a wife of my own.

That’s going to be a problem since I have no plans to get married.

If I’m lucky, he’ll forget about this bullshit and let me run things like I want to run them.

He’s got two of my brothers and my two sisters who’ll give him all the heirs in the world, so why the hell is he bothering me about it?

Brody heads in my direction, brushing right past me as though I don’t exist. I follow him, glancing at her from over my shoulder.

She pauses, catching my eye for a mere moment, then smiles at the next child.

I’m going to find out everything about you, Ms. Hill. We’re going to become really good friends.

I catch up with Brody as he treads toward my black SUV. Opening the backseat door, he hops into the booster, strapping himself in.

I swear the kid will always hate me. No matter what I try, he doesn’t open up. He doesn’t even look at me. If it ever happens, it’s ’cause of necessity. I hate it.

We got along when his parents were alive. Aiden and I would play ball with him, take him bowling.

He’s good at baseball. It’s why I made sure he didn’t drop out of the team once his parents were gone. It’s good for him to have that.

“How was your day?” I settle onto the driver’s seat, taking the car on the road.

He stares out the window and doesn’t say a word.

My fingers curl on the top of my thigh. “That new teacher seems nice. What’s her name again?”

He snaps his eyes to the rearview. And my fucking heart right about stills when he finally looks at me. Then it’s gone as soon as it came. Yet it still happened. Even if it only lasted a few seconds.

And it was all because of her.

“It’s Ms. Hill, right? That’s her name? Is she better than the last teacher? Mrs. S was tougher, I think.”

I mutter a curse under my breath. I’m always talking to myself. But the damn therapist said this is what I have to do. To treat him as though he does talk back.

Yet it’s been around a year and he still hasn’t spoken a word. I fear this is it. That he’ll never talk. Even the doctors can’t tell me anything definitive. No one has answers, except to give it time.

I never much liked time. Time passes, but it’s not always a good thing. Sometimes with time, all you’re waiting for is more shit to fuck up your life.

Like the fact that I only have a couple months to find a wife, or my father will force a marriage on me.

Over my dead body.

I have to figure this out on my own. If there was a woman I could pay to marry me, I would. We wouldn’t need to love each other. Fuck each other, sure, but one doesn’t need love for that.

I don’t even know anyone I like enough to even consider it.

We arrive at my gated estate, my home built on parcels of land we all own. My father has built each one of us a house here. My sisters no longer live on the grounds; however, my brothers, Fionn and Cillian, and I still do.

We own a large farm as well. It’s one way we’re able to clean our money.

My father also built Caellach Academy. It’s not just any kind of school, though. It’s the place where the next generation learns how to become killers—assassins for the Mob. It’s where I taught for a while. It’s where my brothers and Iseult taught too. Combat and tactical skills, amongst many other things they need for the work they will be doing.

We recruit them young. Sixteen, seventeen. And we build them up. Not everyone is allowed to join. They have to be connected to my family to get an invite.

Brody jumps out just as I shut the car off. Together, we head up the cobblestone steps, and the doors immediately open, two of my men stationed inside.

He’s used to that, having security everywhere. It’s how he lived with his parents too. Round-the-clock security. Bulletproof vehicles. It has to be this way.

“Go wash your hands and start on homework,” I tell him.

He marches to the bathroom, brushing right past Ruby, who laughs as she pats him on the head.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Almost knocked right into me.”

He gives her an apologetic glance before he’s out of the room.

She comes over to me as I swipe a hand down my face.

“What the hell am I doing?” I ask her, yet it’s not even a question. “Maybe I’m not right for this.” My tone drops so Brody doesn’t overhear. “He hasn’t made progress. Maybe I’m the problem.”

“Oh, Tynan.” She tilts her face sideways, sympathy playing in her brows. “Don’t do that. You’re doing everything you can.” She lays a wrinkled hand on my forearm. “Trust me. I see it. Everyone does. You’re a darling man, and you try. That’s what anyone would do. Now…” She removes her hand. “How about you go rest, and I’ll make dinner?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ll do it. I told him I would. I don’t want him thinking I break my promises.”

Her smile stretches. “See? You’re a good dad.”

“I’m not his dad.” My words swell with tension.

I don’t want him to think he ever has to call me that.

“But you are, Tynan. You’re the only parent he has now.”

A labored sigh makes it out of my chest. “I didn’t want to be. Not like this.”

Her eyes gleam with emotion. “I know that. I loved them too. But this is where we are now, and you’re doing right by that boy.” Her shoulders sag. “Let me go help him with homework while you cook.”

I nod and head for the kitchen, planning to make his favorite: mac and cheese with bits of bacon.

At least I can do that right.